I Can Only Scream In Ink
by Salmiakki Skittles
Summary: Gilbert finds himself without anything, but the clothes on his back, a tattered notebook, a pen he found discarded on the street and a photograph. Not even a home or his own voice. Who are the three people in the photograph besides himself? He cannot remember, except for an odd feeling that he knows the two brunettes and the blonde very well.
1. Chapter 1

'How many days had passed now? Fifty-seven..? Possibly fifty-eight?

It didn't really matter all too much now. Time had passed, and quite obviously, it wasn't going to improve any time soon. Each day was pretty much the same, although it felt different. Slower. More painful. I guess that is the weariness kicking in. Funny… I never really cared about it. I have my wish, don't I? Being alone was really the most fun.'

Gilbert had looked down at the notebook page, ignoring the slight smudging on the ink. A couple of water drops had fallen down from somewhere above. Hesitantly reaching up and feeling his cheeks, there hadn't been any sign of dampness. It must have been the corroded holes the steel sheet of his temporary roof again. It made sense. If he hadn't cried yet, so why would he cry now?

The albino laid back against the wall, sighing softly to himself. At first, he tried calling out to people, it hadn't been to any success. First, it had just been Gilbert acting as himself, calling out to any passer-by (who in his opinion) deserved a comment of some sort. That had soon changed into begging, hunger and loneliness slowly starting to settle in. No matter how much the man seemed to eat, from whatever little food could be found or obtained by guilting people into giving him food, the hunger still remained. A sensation gnawing gradually through his stomach. After that had been the desperate attempts at bargaining with people. Offering to sell the very clothes off of his back. Most of the possessions that he had brought with him were well and truly gone at this point. Leaving Gilbert with little more than the clothing he wore, a small pocket knife, a tattered notebook with a previously discarded pen and a folded up photograph in his pocket.

At this point, he had actually forgotten who was actually in the photograph besides himself. Three other people, their names appeared to always escape his memory, along with he also knew him. All that the Prussian could remember was a soft, glowing feeling that bloomed inside of him when he looked upon it.

He couldn't bear to gaze upon the photo too long, in fear that the glowing feeling would disappear if he looked at it for too long. Almost like a perfume. It's pleasant initially, but gradually it begins to fade until there isn't a trace of its existence remaining besides the memory, Leaning down a little, Gilbert begun writing once more.

'Memories were fleeting anyway… I can barely remember anything but my own name, along with a sense of loneliness. Why do I feel this way though? Hadn't I always been lonely? I don't remember any names, nor having any family of my own. Obviously, I would have had to, wouldn't I? No point dwelling on this anyway, there are more important things.'

With that, he closed the notebook and slid it into his left jacket pocket. The blood rushed to his head as he tried standing, leaning back against the wall and groaning as he clenched his crimson eyes shut. It had almost caused him to pass out. Exhaling slowly then shifting away from the brick wall, Gilbert slowly opened his eyes and looked down at his damp shoes. Of all of his clothing, it had probably been his boots that had withheld the most damage and wear of his possessions. His clothes weren't clean, but they were less dirtied than some would have expected. The Prussian was a clean man, when circumstances allowed. He had been smart about how he approached things. If you had learnt your way around the area, soon enough finding ways to survive was simple enough. Gilbert had made sure to keep a clean appearance, he'd clean himself in public bathrooms in the early hours of the morning. It was less likely to be interrupted during those hours, although naturally, he had been victim to one or two of those uncomfortable exchanges of awkward glances.

The albino took a few unsteady steps forward, his legs beginning to warm up to the motion of walking once more. It took him a moment to regain his orientation, red eyes darting towards the nearest street sign. Gilbert ignored the few stray droplets of water, building his way up into a sprint, looking for a familiar building. His breathing grew more and more erratic, the exhaustion and hunger taking its toll.

His feet getting ahead of his thoughts, Gilbert felt himself collide right into somebody, not having the time to stop himself. The two bodies fell right towards the ground, his sight blurring until a moment afterwards. The first thing what had struck him was the violet eyes. Such an odd colour for a person to possess, although he was one to speak, having red eyes of his own. He opened his mouth to speak, but turned away hurriedly in confusion. The other man reminded him of somebody, but he couldn't quite remember from where. Possibly he had run into him on the street once before? Or had it been something else.

Reaching into his pocket, Gilbert slid out and carefully unfolded the photograph, as if it were the most precious thing in the world. An image of three people and himself, two were brunettes and a blonde. A bout of shock hitting him, he turned over back towards where the violet eyed man had fallen, finding that he had begun walking once more. Maybe he had turned too quickly to recognise him. Stumbling over his own feet to rise, he ran up to the man again. Shaking the hands which held the photograph, as if it were a rattle or something of the sort. The brunette still hadn't turned around. Desperate to catch his attention, Gilbert had tried speaking but nothing came out besides a hoarse croak. His voice had been like this for quite some time now, of course, why would it change now?

Slamming his fist against the brick wall in frustration, the albino slowly slid down the wall, sighing in defeat. Dropping his head down, he hit his fist against his leg, screwing his face up. It was only then when he had felt a gentle hand grasp his shoulder. Instead of the brunette he had been chasing, this had been a taller blonde instead.


	2. Chapter 2

It was odd, he looked like such a stern individual, yet his eyes seemed to have all the softness in the world. It was almost like a calm blue sky after a hailstorm had ripped through, brimming with warmth and pity for those caught within the storm. Normally, the staring eyes burnt right through him, but this was different. The blonde looked familiar too, yet in a different way to the violet eyed brunette.

The taller man stood up slowly, offering Gilbert a hand up. Taking it gratefully, he gripped firmly as he pulled himself upright. The two sets of eyes never left one another, the contrast against the calming blue and the flaming red. The albino tried focusing his thoughts on how the other was familiar. There was definitely something, but yet again, nothing came to mind. He still couldn't shake the feeling off. Taking his left hand back, Gilbert had slid it back into his jacket pocket and pulled out the photograph, handing it to the other, desperately pointing to the people in the image. Only then, had he realised that the blonde in the photograph was also the one before him.

"Ja, this is me." The blonde replied, nodding softly. Hearing those words, an ecstatic feeling built up inside of Gilbert, in a spur of the moment action, he tightly hugged the other man. Tears finally threatening to fall from the corners of his eyes. Disregarding his strong façade, he let them fall and tightened his grip around the other. "Gilbert, where have you been all of this time?" The blonde asked, returning the gesture just as firmly. Gilbert pulled away slightly, looking at him with a confused, yet curious look. The look in the red eyes almost caused the other to break down. "Do you know who I am..?" The hesitant voice asked, Gilbert only replying with a soft shake of the head. The arms withdrew from around Gilbert's smaller frame, the hands resting on his shoulders. "Gilbert… It's me. Ludwig. Don't you remember?" The German felt his breath catch and grow stale in his throat. His voice was calm, yet with an underlying tone of desperation. Once again, the albino had shook his head. The man looked familiar, but only from the photograph. No other memories of him had remained.

Ludwig's arms had wrapped around the shorter male, burrowing his head into his shoulder, fighting back the tears. He had managed so far, fought them away with such desperation. After all, if the blonde had broke down, who else was there to comfort the others who had grieved for the Prussian's disappearance.

Gilbert had tried reaching down into his jacket pocket, his mobility limited by the hug. After a brief half-hearted struggle, he had decided to stop and simply hug the taller man back. He brought his arms around the German, hesitantly rubbing his hand against the other's back and letting a slow smile spread across his lips. It was warm. Much warmer than he had ever imagined something could be. Even on the occasional day that the rain or wind hadn't created a chill in the air. It was comforting, quite different to the interactions that the Prussian had experienced. This had been the first of the caring ones.

The two stood in the same position, hugging one another, ignoring the rain as it fell on the two mercilessly. Neither was sure which of the two had looked up first, instead they both smiled gently at one another as Ludwig took Gilbert's hand and led the other towards a building. A soft, but steady rhythm of music could be heard from inside the premises. Gilbert squinted his eyes a little as he tried reading the sign, letters darkened by the night. Disregarding it, he just shrugged it off and followed behind. He felt as if he could trust this man. He could tell by his eyes. Clear blue, soft yet direct. It was refreshing in it's own way. As the blonde opened the door, the two men felt the warm air rush out past them into the dark street. Looking back towards the shorter man, Ludwig nodded softly, motioning for the other to follow behind as they walked inside.

As if the rain hadn't been falling outside, the atmosphere changed entirely as they walked inside. The constant murmur of people chatting was heard, blending in so well together, that each conversation was indistinguishable from the next table's occupants.

The brunette from earlier had politely waved Ludwig over, the hand of the German's which held Gilbert's own guided him along the narrow paths between the pub's tables. People were conversing without a care in the world with their friends or family, something that must have been normal for them. For Gilbert though, it was entirely different sort of atmosphere. Foreign, even.

When the two had made the way to the designated table, the two already seated stared at the newcomers in disbelief. The violet eyed man went to the extent of even removing his glasses from his face, cleaning the lenses and putting them back on. "Gilbert..?" The woman had been the first to speak. The albino nodded softly, forcing a small, awkward smile in response. Next, it had ben the other brunette's turn to speak. "It cannot be…"

* * *

A/N: My apologies for such a short chapter this time. Honestly, it was indeed a little rushed, but the next few chapters will be longer.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ja, Roderich. It really is." It had been Ludwig whom had spoken next, answering the Austrian's response with a soft smile of his own. It was the sort of smile that somebody would have when they couldn't quite understand a situation but content at the same time. The German took an unoccupied seat beside Elizaveta, leaving Gilbert to remain standing by the table as he looked around.

"You are allowed to sit down." The Hungarian woman laughed softly, amused in her own way at the albino's behaviour. It was endearing in its own way, he reminded her of a small dog in an unfamiliar place. It had been so unlike the Prussian's normal behaviour, brimming with overwhelming self-confidence. Gilbert opened his mouth to answer, instead he slowly sat on the seat beside Roderich. He gave a slight wave and hesitant smile to the violet eyed man, this was met with a similar action of the Austrian's own. Although still visibly tense, Gilbert exhaled softly and tried to relax himself. These people had seemed kind enough, after all. They didn't laugh or kick dirt in his face, nor passing by as if he were just another brick in a wall. They genuinely seemed to like him. "Would you like anything to eat or drink?" Ludwig looked up from the menu towards Gilbert. 'Damn… Why do these types of questions need spoken answers?' He looked down, frustrated at himself. It was only looking at the table when he had spotted a napkin and a pen on the table. Reaching over, he quickly scribed down a message on the napkin and passed it to the blonde.

"Anything is fine." Ludwig read out softly, looking up at Gilbert with a curious expression. "Something warm then, ja?" The albino smiled and nodded softly. He couldn't pass up the chance of a hot meal, especially in his state. Already being inside somewhere warm was a significant change of scenery for him. The German nodded in response, taking a mental note. Gilbert hadn't spoken a word, even taking to writing on a napkin. He'd have to ask about that later on, not just yet though. He didn't want to make the other uncomfortable and Ludwig had just wanted to enjoy the other's company, having been overjoyed to have found his brother after this time.

Gilbert had watched as the other three had idle chatter, discussing what they would order and such. It hadn't taken too long for a waitress to pass by, taking the group's order. He couldn't help but smile, she had addressed him as sir. That sort of respect was very unfamiliar to the man.

"Gilbert… Where have you been?" Roderich looked over towards the man beside him, his voice having an underlying tone of concern. Gilbert opened his mouth to speak, closing his and burying his head in his hands. Ludwig had shot an incriminating look towards the Austrian, the brunette merely shrugged off the look. "I am certain that I am not the only one wanting to know." Roderich responded, cocking an eyebrow. "Somebody simply cannot go missing for no apparent reason and not return home."

Gilbert still remained in his position, sighing heavily to himself. His fist were screwed up in tight balls, his eyes screwed tightly closed in frustration. 'Why can't I just speak like normal people?' He felt his cheeks dampen with a few stray tears that had fallen. After taking a moment to regain his composure, he wiped them away on his sleeve, which hadn't quite dried yet from the rainstorm outside. With a shaky breath, he looked up and opened his mouth, hesitating to speak. He focused intensely on saying a single word. He tried, but nothing came out but a forced, hoarse sound. The three other faces fell, Ludwig's most of all. His suspicion had been correct after all. Roderich looked down guiltily, rubbing the back of his neck. "My apologies..." Cringing from the pain, the albino looked up and shook his head softly, reaching over for the napkin once more and swiftly wrote down, 'No need to apologise.'

"If you need anything, just be letting us know. We're happy to be helping." Elizaveta let a small, polite smile grace her lips. Every thought of past hatred and anger had escaped her, genuine concern taking hold of her emotions. 'Unfortunate events always bring out the best of people.' The Austrian noted the difference in Elizaveta's attitude towards Gilbert. The Prussian had nodded softly, managing a smile of his own.

Looking down to the napkin once more, he quickly wrote down another note. 'This itself is nice. I'm sorry that I can't talk though.' He held out the napkin, cautiously watching their expressions and waiting for the inevitable questioning. People didn't seem to be able to comprehend that Gilbert hadn't been able to speak. He wasn't sure of the reason himself, it was just extremely painful, as if he felt his throat was scratching itself whenever he attempted. He couldn't even manage a soft whisper, although it was more than likely that the sound would've been drowned out by the world nonetheless. The world seemed to have an effect on things like this. If you didn't have a voice, you simply didn't exist. Sure, you could be seen, but that was little use in a society with such a short attention span that one would have to scream at the top of their lungs before anyone would turn their head.

"Gilbert, don't feel as if you need to hurt yourself for us..." That reaction had certainly been unexpected. The albino's eyes widened in surprised, looking over to Ludwig with an expression of slight confusion. He had never received that response before. "Ja, ink can be just as loud as spoken words." It was Roderich who spoke next, taking his glasses off and resting them on the table. The Austrian actually had better sight without them on, ironically enough. "There are other ways to be heard without speaking. Everybody is having their own way, I personally use music." He smiled softly, running a hand through the back of his hair. Gilbert nodded a little, he hadn't really quite thought deeper into it, rather taking everything for face value. "You are just having to find your own way. Although, I am content with giving advice when asked, Gilbert." The smile on the Prussian's face grew, a warm feeling beginning to glow inside of him. It felt foreign, but it was nice in its own sense.

Elizaveta reached over the table and squeezed Gilbert's right hand gently. "We can be offering help to. Is there anything you are needing?" She tilted her head a little questioningly. Using his free hand, he reached out for a clean napkin and wrote down something with a almost-saddened expression. 'Somewhere to be staying would be nice.'


End file.
